A Good Faith Gift
by K9Lasko
Summary: Tim helps Tony with that calamine lotion issue. Tag to S13E6 "Viral."


**Title:** A Good Faith Gift  
 **Pairing:** DiNozzo/McGee  
 **Spoilers:** Tag to S13E6 "Viral"  
 **Summary:** Tim helps Tony with that calamine lotion issue.

* * *

As they walked down the hall, Tony itched at his neck like a flea-ridden dog, but he still had the nerve to ask, "Your place or mine?" He had that provocative smirk on his face, eyebrows raised, even as he kept itching and itching and itching.

"Would you stop that already?" Tim nagged him. "That's why it's spread all over you. Didn't you hear me the first time?"

"I feel like one giant burning mutant mosquito bite. It's like summer at Camp Tikihama all over again, except _worse_."

"I know. Not so much fun, is it." Tim's tone was more goading than supportive.

"I really don't think my place is a good venue," Tony went on, still itching and rubbing. His suit coat hung open and he'd long since gotten rid of the tie. The blisters were _on fire_ and pulsing, and AH! He had to _itch_. "With Senior still lurking around and all—"

"Yeah, well, there's no way I'm taking you home to Delilah. Not like this," Tim remarked.

"Men's room it is then," Tony said as he stopped to rub his back up against the doorway. "Like old times, right?" He hummed obscenely in relief. "Oh yeah! I've been waiting to scratch that since 16:00. Couldn't with Gibbs giving me the dick-eye all afternoon. What is up with that anyway?"

McGee looked furtively up and down the hallway, made a sour face, and then pulled his itchy friend into the bathroom. "Let's get this over with." He checked his watch. "Delilah's already pissed about the stash of crap I said I donated. I'm supposed to meet her at IKEA in an hour. Something about a futon."

"Your future sleeping arrangements?" Tony teased.

Tim didn't find that quite as amusing.

"Hey. I'm kidding." Tony bumped Tim's shoulder with his own, grinning. "So, did she cave on the EasyBake Oven?"

"No." He ignored Tony's continued scratching as he pulled on the rubber gloves, snapping them as he did. "Okay. Strip."

"Oh, it really is like old times, isn't it?" Tony said as he shed his jacket in between scratching and rubbing. Then he started unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He had to pause to itch again. "Did you lock the door?" he teased.

Tim grabbed his wrist, stilling Tony's assault on his own irritated skin. Then he began unbuttoning Tony's shirt for him. "Don't get any ideas, DiNozzo. I'm taken, and so are you."

"That's right."

"That was a one time deal, you know, back then. When we needed it."

"Pretty sure it happened a few times, but that's a-okay, Probie." Tony moved Tim's hands aside and slid off his shirt, leaving his torso bare. "Go ahead and embrace that selective memory."

"We were friends, Tony. And we're still friends." Tim stared at Tony's face, refusing to let his eyes wander to his chest or his belly or any other part of him than his face. "Let's not get confused, okay?"

"Right," Tony remarked with sarcasm. "Let's not get confused."

Tim noted the edge of bitterness there and opted to ignore it. Instead, he squirted a healthy dose of the lotion into his palm. "Okay, where can't you reach?"

"My back."

Silently, Tim rubbed the lotion over the angry welts. "That better?"

Tony was already groaning in relief. "Rub me up, Buttercup."

Tim stilled at the old nickname. He hadn't heard it in a while, the last time being when… Well, the last time they'd… you know. Tony would say it… The last time they'd _fucked_. He both hated and loved that nickname. Buttercup. Silly and ridiculous and insulting. Of course Tony had come up with that years ago, during the height of Tim's Nutterbutter addiction. And maybe, during that time, he'd earned that nickname.

Until he lost the weight. And then Tony _gained_ the weight. Tim could see his belly now. It was free of the itchy welts and looked very grip-able.

"I see what's going on in that head, McPrudence," Tony said, looking at him through those eyelashes. It was provocative, as Tony usually was.

Frustrated, Tim punched him in the arm, and they glared at each other. "Stop. Right now," Tim warned. "I mean it."

"I'm sorry, but—" Tony stepped in, cupping Tim's face and gazing at him hard and serious. "—You can't say no to me."

Tim frowned, saying, "Yeah, I—"

Tony kissed him. Hard. His teeth nibbled at Tim's lip.

And at once Tim knew how much he missed kissing Tony, and how good it made him feel, how crazily in love it made him feel. Kissing Tony wasn't like kissing Delilah, and remembering that made him feel intensely guilty. It was the guilt that prompted Tim to pull away and wipe his mouth with the back of a hand.

"I know," Tony said, quietly. "Delilah."

Tim took off the gloves and tossed them in the trash can.

"It's just a kiss, Tim," Tony lied, to both himself and his friend. "Just a friendly kiss."

"You and I both know that's not true."

"So then what?"

"So then what?" Tim repeated. Then he stated, "Go home to Zoe."

"What if she's not what I want?" Tony asked.

Tim handed Tony his shirt. "I don't know what you want, Tony. I never have." He also held out that calamine lotion, a good faith gift.

* * *

 _the end :)_


End file.
